I often wonder why, for me, listening to jazz means putting on a record and not popping in a disc. I know I prefer the sound of the record, but I’m no audiophile and, to be honest, I’m not sure if given a blindfold test I would necessarily be able to tell the vinyl apart from the CD. My preference, as I’m sure it does for all record collectors, goes beyond the sound.
There’s the tactile: The actual feel of the record and the placing of it on the turntable and the taking of the needle and the placing of the needle on the first groove. Read more
Today we turn things over to some readers. We appreciate all of your letters and the great support we’re already getting from the community after just two weeks. If you sent us a note and we haven’t replied, it’s just because we’re a little overwhelmed right now. Here are some of the things our readers have shared with us:
“It’s great to read your newsletter. I feel the same way about my father as you do about being introduced to jazz. I was hearing jazz at my house as a kid way before I migrated to my generation’s rock music. I eventually came back to jazz I my 20s and have stayed there since. Read more
(This is the first in an occasional, sporadic and perhaps-never ending series of confessions by Al Perlman)
My name is Al. I’m a vinyl addict.
Last year, I thought I had it beaten. I had turned 50, quit my job and decided to move to a smaller house. It was time to downsize. No one really needs 12,000 records, right? I went through each record one by one and decided which would stay and which would go. I was ruthless. If a record wasn’t in nice condition it was Read more
One of the great things about selling the records on eBay is making contact with a wide group of people with varied experiences. One of the customers got into a riff about the late bassist and composer Charles Mingus, which brought me back 30 years, to the time when I was a young reporter for the Syracuse New Times and was asked to interview Mingus and review his concert a local club called Jabberwocky. I went through my files and dug up the article, from 1973, when I was just 20 years old. There’s something to be said for saving everything. Anyway, here it is, just the way it appeared 30 years ago, with just a couple of paragraphs deleted for brevity.